Chapter Text
Oikawa’s liked you ever since your first year of high school. Maybe it was the fact that you were as sweet as the treats you made. He still remembers the cookies that you gave him a few weeks into high school were supposed to give him earlier.
He still remembers that day filled with frustrations and then the feelings of relief brought upon by you.
It all started in May of last year, after his first practice match in high school—a day he would remember for reasons other than his frustration.
May of 2010
When Oikawa got into high school, he was rather disappointed with the school's volleyball team. Okay– he wasn’t just disappointed, he was downright frustrated. His seniors didn’t seem to care about winning. Or at least going to nationals. They seemed to be the type of team who didn’t mind if they lost, and he hated it.
It was just the end of their very first practice match and it had ended in complete defeat—losing both sets, the second by nine points. And he wasn't a starting player and he was never even subbed in. All he could do was observe on the sidelines watching as this brand-new team of his lost and he could do nothing about it. Watching a team that didn’t even seem to care about their own potential. It was maddening.
He wanted to win, beat Ushijima, go to nationals, and win that too. But their current captain, Amamiya, seemed to be the kind of guy who played volleyball cause he knew how to play. And sure, he was decent– pretty good even. But he wasn’t trying his best. He was also a setter but all he did was send the ball to whoever was closest to the net with no strategy whatsoever. Oikawa wanted to pull his hair out from just watching the game for crying out loud!
Did he make the wrong choice coming here? No—no, that wasn’t it. He just had to work harder. But how could he push forward when no one else seemed to care?
So now here Oikawa was sitting by the vending machine, exhaling sharply in an attempt to calm himself. Hopefully, a drink would cool his frustrations as he gripped his new jersey, his fists tight and knuckles turning white just trying to keep himself together.
"Um... Excuse me?"
A soft voice asked. It was you, (f/n) (l/n). He'd seen you before, but you and he weren't exactly well acquainted. You just happened to sit beside him, and he knew you from orientation, that's all.
He looked up at you with a smile, his usual flippant mask slipping easily into place. But underneath it, the frustration still churned.
"Yes (Y/n)-san?"
You looked at him a bit uncomfortably before scrambling, presumably trying to get something out of your bag. You pulled out a small plastic bag filled with cookies—seemingly different flavors—with a small minty green bow on top tying it all together.
“These are cookies... I made some for the whole class and gave them around during break a few weeks back, but you were always gone, and someone ate the one I had for you, so this is a brand new batch!”
You said a bit embarrassed to which Oikawa just looked at you for a moment to gauge your intentions, raising a brow. Perhaps he had looked a bit too intently because you awkwardly set down the bag beside him on the bench.
Oikawa smiled, ”Wow, you really went out of your way to make this for everyone,” he said smoothly, tilting his head to the side playfully. “Thank you (Y/n)-chan! I’ll be sure to savor every bite of it.”
You nodded and went over to the vending machine, getting yourself a drink.
Oikawa’s previous and current impression of you wasn’t anything special. You were a regular girl who seemed nice as you had apparently made cookies for everyone– or at least that’s what you told him. He had every right to be skeptical. After all, he had been gaining popularity recently among his classmates. He wouldn’t be surprised if this was just another excuse to get close—he’d seen it before.
People who played nice, who acted like they cared, just to get closer to him. It had happened in middle school. Teammates who wanted to befriend him just to say they were close with him. Classmates who pretended to admire him, only to talk about him behind his back when he wasn’t looking. Girls who giggled at everything he said, whether it was funny or not, waiting for an opening to slip in a confession.
And it seemed that in his first few weeks of high school, more people started turning their heads to catch a glimpse of him He had to admit, he enjoyed the attention. But sometimes it just became a bit overbearing.
Now there you stood looking at him with a concerned smile. Concerned why? He had no idea. But he returned the smile anyway.
You seemed to brighten slightly as you spoke, your tone carrying a hint of determination. “A sweet treat always helps me when I'm feeling down or frustrated! I hope the cookies do the trick Oikawa-san.”
Oikawa paused mid-smile. Have you actually noticed? His guard slipped for a second, and a brief flicker of something unfamiliar passed through him—a mix of surprise and something almost like... gratitude? But he quickly masked it with a smile, unsure of what to make of it.
You gave him a firm nod, standing up straighter before you scurried away.
Oikawa couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Your attempt at determination was both endearing and amusing—the way your cheeks puffed up slightly, your stance wavering between confidence and hesitation. There was an almost nervous bounce to your movements, a mix of resolve and uncertainty that only made the moment more charming. It was an unexpectedly delightful interaction.
Oikawa looked at the bag of cookies, gently unraveling the neat bow and taking the cookie from the top of the bag. He broke off a piece of the cookie, expecting something basic, something sweet but forgettable.
As he bit down, the outer layer gave way with a delicate crispness before sinking into something irresistibly soft and chewy. As he continued to chew, a burst of bright lemon flooded their tongue—sweet at first, then sharp, like the zest of freshly grated peel. The unexpected flavor and texture was a lemon-flavored mochi. The mochi inside stretched slightly as he pulled away, its tender chewiness lingering with each bite. The balance of tart citrus and gentle sweetness melted together, leaving behind a whisper of buttery richness and the lingering scent of lemon. It was comforting yet refreshing, like sunshine in dessert form.
This is really good… He couldn’t help but think.
His mind was still stuck on the game, on the missed opportunities, and his team’s lack of drive. But as the chewy mochi melted on his tongue, the sharp burst of lemon was like a snap back to reality. He blinked, the tension in his chest didn't disappear, but for the first time that day, it loosened—just a little. The frustration was momentarily drowned out by the unexpected joy in the taste. He found himself relishing in the flavor. Maybe, just maybe, this was what he needed.
So he dug into the bag taking another cookie, a unique and different flavor with each bite. He truly did savor each bite. And in some way, he felt a bit more relaxed.
For the first time that day, something had gone right. It wasn’t a victory on the court, but for now, it was enough.